He felt a warm pressure against his right side, and when it finally sank in what he was leaning against, his eyes opened. He blinked, giving them a moment to adjust, taking in the blades of the still fan above, which were casting faint shadows along the ceiling. And when he turned his head, there was enough moonlight coming through the open blinds that he could see her fair hair fanned against his shoulder, almost white in the low light.
It was all new to him. Having another body lined up with his. Well not new, of course. He'd slept next to Martha for twenty-seven years. But it'd been a few years since he'd been in this position, so it felt new again.
The one night he'd spent with Lizzie, he'd woken to the smell of her making breakfast, the bed empty beside him.
Vic had been in the bathroom when he'd woken that first time. The next time, they hadn't been touching. She on her side of the bed, he on his. Yesterday morning he'd woken to a shake of his shoulder as she moved across him to sit at the edge of the couch, their slumber disrupted by Cady's arrival.
But now, here she lay, pressed up against him. It made his chest constrict, and a smile start to form.
Wanting to get a better look at her, but not wanting to wake her, he slowly shifted. She would never allow him to look at her this way, this close up, if she were awake. If she were awake, she'd give him an eye roll, or a 'God, Walt, stop,' or a push to his shoulder to avert his gaze. But she wasn't awake, so he took his chances and stared away.
Lying on his side, with his right hand holding up his head, he reached out with his left and brushed some hair away from her face. Her head was tilted toward him, and he watched the slow up and down movement of her chest.
He thought about how he had walled himself off the last few years, concluding that protecting himself, and others, from further pain was the safest way to proceed. If he didn't let others in, if he limited his exposure, his focus, his affection, to the few he'd already let in before he'd sealed up all the cracks, he'd be safe. His heart would be safe.
But, looking down at her now he knew. He knew she'd found a way in. He knew she'd found a way in long before he'd let her in. In to his thoughts, though he'd tried to push her out. In to his home, where few others had been invited in. And into his heart, where only one other woman had been granted full access before.
He stared down at her with warm eyes.
God, she was beautiful.
Again he reached out, to tuck away a few more loose strands, but this time, when he pulled his fingers away, her eyes opened. He'd been caught, his hand still in the air, his gaze squarely on her.
He waited for her to chastise him for staring at her while she'd been sleeping, but her lips stayed pressed together as her eyes scanned his face. After a moment, she reached out, her fingers landing on his chin, and then sliding up to the corner of his mouth.
"I like that." Her voice cracked in its early morning use.
"You like what?"
"Seeing you smile."
He hadn't realized he was still smiling, and it made him smile more. She grinned in return. It was that smile of hers. That genuine, light-from-within smile that got him every time, and he could feel his whole body respond in return.
He lifted his hand and ran his fingers lightly up her arm. "Did I wake you?"
She dropped her hand to the bed and blinked, her dark eyes holding his. "With your smile?"
His hand stilled. He'd meant with his shifting weight on the mattress, or his fingers as they'd touched her hair, or his unabashed staring that surely she had felt through closed eyelids. The corners of his mouth lifted further. "Yep."
She blinked, a smile still on her lips, and then she shook her head.
The warmth of her skin penetrated his hand, which lay at her elbow. "You don't normally wake up at this hour."
She arched an eyebrow. "How do you know what my Monday morning routine is? Maybe I get up early to prep for my return to work each week."
He slid his fingers slowly in the other direction along her arm. "Just a guess."
Yawning she grabbed his wrist and brought it in closer. "What time is it anyway?"
"Almost five."
She squinted and then looked back at him. "You can read your watch in this light?"
He stayed on her for a moment and then shrugged. "I saw the clock on your bed end table."
She let out a laugh. "Right."
Rolling on to her side, she propped her head on her left hand, mirroring his pose, and then slowly ran the bottom of her foot up his shin under the blankets.
"How'd you sleep?"
He paused as her foot slid a little higher up his leg. "Well."
"Even though you're up before five in the morning?"
"We went to bed before nine. That's more than eight hours of sleep."
She lightly poked his chest. "See, I told you we could get some rest together."
He grabbed her fingers. "Not to name names, Ms. Moretti, but someone has kept me up every night for over a week. You can't blame me for being a little skeptical."
"That's not true. I believe you got a full night's sleep on Tuesday night."
Walt thought back to that night in Henry's office. "Well it wasn't a good night's sleep. We were sitting on Henry's couch, which is not the most comfortable thing." And he'd been worried about her, in her drunken state. And dreaming about her earlier that evening, when he'd not yet given himself permission to do so. And weighed down with the burden of wanting her but not allowing himself to go after what he wanted.
She managed to loosen his grasp on her hand and poked him in the chest again. "And I wasn't even with you a number of the nights, so you can't blame me for the whole week."
His eyes held hers. "Given everything that's happened this week, you were with me, even when you weren't there."
Her eyes closed as she exhaled deeply. "Same here."
He reached out his hand, laying it at her right hip, and then slowly ran it down the blanket, along the outside of her thigh. When he began to pull down the bedding, her eyes popped open as a small smile lit her lips.
He smiled in return as he ran his hand up to the small of her back.
Her gaze slid from his face to his arm as she reached out and ran her fingers over his scar. "That day feels like a lifetime ago...and like it was just yesterday."
He watched her face. He knew exactly which day she was referring to.
She looked back up at him, her fingers still tracing circles on his skin. "One of the worst days ever. I don't think I've ever been that scared. For myself. For Sean." Her eyes dropped, falling again to the scar. "For you."
"Me either."
Her eyes flicked up. "You weren't scared. You challenged a man to a duel, for God's sake."
"I wasn't scared for myself."
Her hand stilled as she held his gaze. "But you were so calm."
"When Sean called...I don't remember leaving my place...I just found myself barreling down the road in the direction he'd sent me." There had been panic, and it had almost been blinding.
Her eyes were back on her fingers which were still on his scar. "That gun pressed into my neck. That bat in that nutcase's hands. I had nightmares for weeks."
Walt remembered Vic's reaction earlier that week as Rich Sollinger recalled being beaten with a bat by the intruder. He wondered if she still had nightmares.
He could picture her sitting across from him as the doctor sewed him up that morning. Her eyes distant. Her face, her wrists, her knuckles, red, bruised, and swollen. He reached out and ran his thumb across her eyebrow that had been cut that day. Thankfully there was no scar. And then he did what he had not been able to do in that hospital room, although he had wanted to. He leaned in and pressed his lips lightly to the area.
When he pulled back, her eyes were on his. After a moment she dropped her left hand to the bed, and then leaned in and pressed her lips to his scar. His eyes closed involuntarily. He felt her hair against his chest, and her fingers still clasping his arm, and he remembered the feel of her against him, as he finally allowed himself to pull her into an embrace that morning.
She pulled back, but not completely, their faces close. Her breathing soft. Her fingers now exploring his chest.
He felt her knee push its way between his.
He slid his hand, that was still at her back, below her shirt as he leaned in closer.
Their noses touched.
Her knee moved up his inner thighs, and her hand moved across his shoulder.
He found the hem of her shirt and tugged it upwards.
Her knee again rose further until it was pressed up against him.
He tugged her shirt higher.
She pulled their lower bodies closer, her hands dipping into the back of his boxers.
And then their chests were lined up, and he was rolling her onto her back.
Her fingers dug into his hair, and he wanted her even closer.
He pulled her shirt over her head and then brought his lips to her neck.
She said his name in his ear.
He trailed a path with his tongue to her earlobe and then felt her press her hand into his shoulder and heard her say his name again.
And then he pulled back, and heard what she must have already heard. Her cell phone ringing from the bedside table.
A grunt of frustration escaped his lips as he buried his head in the corner of her neck. "Just let it go."
Her breathing was slightly labored like his. "I need to get that. It's probably Ferg. We told him to call if something happened."
When he didn't move, she pushed against his weight. "Walt, he's probably already tried your home phone."
Grudgingly, Walt rolled off of her, and her hand darted over to the table.
"Hey Ferg."
She listened for a moment. "No, it's ok. I was awake."
Walt propped himself back on his side and began to trace a path up her arm until she swatted his hand away.
"Tyler's credit card? When?"
Walt froze. "Where'd he use it?"
She glanced up at him, her knotted eyebrows telling him to be quiet as she continued her conversation with Ferg. "At a gas station in Greybull? Really?" Which one?
Walt leaned in. "Has Ferg talked to the gas station attend-"
Vic clamped her hand over his mouth with a stern stare and then looked away.
"Have you talked to anyone at the gas station to get more details?" After a moment she looked at him and shook her head.
"Ok."
Again he leaned closer. "Tell him to-"
She turned to her right side, away from him. "You know what? I think we should give Walt a call, to loop him in." She listened to Ferg for a moment. "Yeah, I know. He doesn't tend to answer on the first call. But let me put you on hold, and I'll give it a try, and then I'll patch you in so the three of us can talk about this."
Walt watched her press the screen of her phone before turning his way. She must have seen a confused expression on his face. "Go down to my kitchen. I'll call my home phone, and as long as you talk quietly, we can have a three-way conversation without him knowing you're doing it from my house."
He was still contemplating her instructions when she gave his shoulder a little shove. He sat up while she leaned over the side of the mattress to reclaim her discarded shirt. As she pulled it over her head, he rose, picking up his clothes as he walked around he bed and crossed the room.
As he pulled his arms into the sleeves of his shirt and made his way down the stairs, he got a closer look at the front room, which he'd barely seen the previous night in their haste to go upstairs. His eyes were scanning over the room's contents when the phone rang from the kitchen.
He found the cordless handset on the counter. "Hey."
"Ok, I'll connect Ferg in."
A pause and then Walt heard Vic's voice again. "Ferg, you there?"
"Yes."
"Walt, you still there?"
Walt had the phone tucked in between his ear and his shoulder as he stepped into his jeans. "Yep."
"Ok, Ferg, I've brought Walt up to speed."
"Uh...good morning, Sheriff. Sorry for waking you this early."
"Morning. Who reported Tyler's credit card usage?" He pulled his zipper up, and then grabbed the buckle of his belt.
"Rich Sollinger called the station a little while ago."
Walt ran his hand over his face. Tom Haskill must have been successful in convincing Joanne Daniels to look up her son's transactions on his credit card that she'd co-signed.
"Ok. Ferg, when we get off, why don't you call the Big Horn County Sheriff's Office up in Basin. Ask them to head over to the gas station, and give them the description and license plate number of Tyler's truck. And send them Tyler's picture. They'll need to know what he and his vehicle look like to help track him down. Text Vic their number so we can contact their department if we need to."
"Ok."
"And then call the gas station and find out what you can. There's a chance the guy working didn't interact with Tyler if he paid at the pump, but maybe he bought something inside. See if he saw which direction Tyler was heading when he left. Maybe they have video surveillance."
"Sure."
Walt could hear Ferg scribbling notes as he took down his instructions. "While you're doing that, Vic and I will head up to Greybull."
"Ok."
"We should call Tom Haskill." It was Vic, joining the conversation. "Sheridan's closer, so they can get someone up to Greybull before we can get there. And then when we arrive, if they haven't located him, we can help expand the search."
Walt nodded into the phone. "Ok. We'll call Tom as we head out. And Ferg..."
"Yep?"
"Catch Branch up when he gets in later this morning. And if you need any help, call him in early."
"I will."
Walt paused. "And thanks Ferg. For working the overnight shift."
There was another pause. "Uh...you're welcome."
"Keep us posted if you learn something."
"Sure thing."
Vic came in again. "Hey Ferg, text me the address of the gas station when we hang up."
"Sure, Vic."
"Thanks, Ferg."
Walt turned the phone off and placed it on the counter. Buttoning his shirt, he turned to find Vic reaching the bottom of the stairs, fully dressed, his boots in her hand.
She looked up at him as he joined her in the front entranceway. "Why don't you head back to your place, shower and change. I'll make us some coffee, scrounge us up some breakfast for the two of us, and then head your way."
She placed his boots on the floor and turned to get his coat from where it hung on the wall. Bending over and pulling the first boot on, he looked up at her. "Are you implying that I need a shower?"
She grinned as she reached for the door knob, and he reached for his other boot. "It could be a long day. Might as well start it off on a good note."
He straightened, taking his coat from her hand. "It already started off on a good note."
Her eyes sparkled. "Until Ferg called."
He nodded as he slipped his coat on. "Yep, until Ferg called."
Turning, he scooped up his hat from the end table and flipped it over and then on to his head. Rotating back toward the door, he found Vic propping the screen open.
He stepped in front of her. "Ok."
She smiled up at him, tapping his boot with the front of hers. "Ok."
Stepping closer, he hooked his finger into the top of her jeans, to the right of her buckle. "I'll go take my shower."
She copied his hold on her by hooking her finger into his jeans and giving a tug.
A crunching, scraping sound behind him made him jump slightly, and on instinct he pulled his hand away and took a step back. He slowly turned to look over his shoulder. Vic's neighbor was dragging a trash bin to the end of his driveway.
His eyes returned to Vic. "Ok. I'll, umm...I'll see you in a bit."
With her hands now resting on her hips, she pursed her lips. "Ok."
He turned and headed for his truck.
XX
Walt placed Vic's phone in one of the cupholders in the middle console of her truck. "Tom's deputy stationed across the street from Joanne Daniels' house confirmed that Tyler hasn't shown up at home."
Staring at the road through her aviator sunglasses, she nodded, her lips twisted in thought. "So he left the gas station, and we have no idea what direction he's headed in."
"Tom said they have deputies from the Lovell office covering highway 310, in case he's headed north, back to Billings, as well as deputies from the Basin office covering the southern path down highway 20, if he's headed that way."
"Well they haven't found him on either of those routes, which means what?"
"He's still in Greybull. Or..."
She finished his sentence, as she scanned the surrounding mountains. "Or he's here, somewhere in the Big Horn National Forest."
"Route 14 is the only road through this part, and neither Tom nor we have crossed his path."
She looked over at him. "Maybe he is back in Greybull. Eating breakfast at some diner, like he did at The Bee last Monday morning."
He nodded, his eyes on the trees. "Maybe. They have some deputies driving the streets in the surrounding area, looking for his truck."
"So what's our plan?"
"Tom and a couple of his Sheridan deputies are in Greybull, asking around, trying to determine if Tyler stayed at a motel or nearby campground, and looking for anyone who might know where he's headed. We'll meet up with them and compare notes."
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Vic try to mask a yawn. When she realized she'd been caught, she grinned. "Can we find that diner and stop for some more coffee?"
"We can stop in Shell if you want some caffeine sooner than Greybull."
Vic pointed toward the back of the truck with a jab of her thumb. "I saw a sign a little while back saying the Shell Creek Rest Stop is coming up ahead. And something about an Interpretive Center. Won't they sell some coffee there?"
"Interpretive Site. But it will be closed, since it's October."
He picked up the plastic bag from the floor near his feet, containing the food she'd put together for their road trip. "You want another snack?"
She glanced over at him. "A granola bar sounds good."
He pulled out two options. "There's one with chocolate and peanuts. And one with almonds and cranberries."
She arched an eyebrow as she placed an open hand in front of him. "Is it even a question?"
With a laugh, he placed the obvious choice in her palm.
As he slid the non-chocolate bar back into the sack, something red caught his eye, and he reached in and pulled the small bag out.
"I didn't realize Skittles fell into the breakfast category."
She laughed. "Hey, you never know when you need a portable, sweet pick-me-up."
She snatched the candy from his hands and stuffed it in her pocket. "I bet you'll be asking me for some when we're into hour twelve of our search, and dinner is nowhere in sight."
He grinned, dropping the bag of food near his feet and returning his gaze to the trees along the road. A sign announcing the Shell Falls Interpretive Site caught his attention, and he scanned the empty parking lot as they passed the entrance.
Something twinkled in the early morning sun.
"Vic. Stop."
Vic slammed on the brakes, and he braced himself as he slid forward and his seatbelt tightened before sending him back into his seat.
Vic eyes were on him immediately. "What?"
"I think I saw Tyler's truck."
"Where?"
"At the side of the lot. I almost missed it."
Vic put the truck in reverse, and then looked over her shoulder as she backed the vehicle up to the entrance. As she braked again and put the truck into drive, Walt placed a hand on her arm."
"Wait. If he's in the truck, I don't want to alarm him. Dylan said Tyler's the one who has the gun. We don't know if he has it with him." He looked over his shoulder. "Reverse a little further. I saw a pull-off area a little back."
She continued reversing down the road, sliding into the dirt pull-off when it came into view.
He opened the door and extracted himself from the passenger seat. Vic was standing on her side, looking at him across the roof of the truck as she tucked her sunglasses into her shirt. She reached back inside and came out with her phone. "Do you want your Winchester?"
Walt looked at his rifle through the back seat window and then shook his head. "No."
They both closed their doors and met at the front of the truck, before making their way back down the road toward the entrance to the rest area.
When the grey Chevy came into sight, he looked over at Vic. Her hand was at her holster, and she nodded, indicating the path she would take. He nodded in the other direction. Slowly, and as quietly as possible, they approached the vehicle.
Walt reached the truck first, and saw immediately that the cab was empty. "Tyler's not here."
"You sure it's his truck?"
"Yep. I checked the plate." Stepping toward the bed of the truck, a flash of fur provided further evidence they had the right vehicle. "And it looks like he has Jessica's dog with him."
The dog came over to the edge, and Walt reached out and rubbed his head. "Bear?"
He received a wag of the tail in confirmation, as the dog dipped his head under Walt's hand to be pet again. Walt complied as he looked over at Vic.
Vic pulled on the driver-side handle. "The door's locked." She stepped back and scanned the parking lot and then looked over at the nearby buildings. "There's a sign over there saying there's a path to Shell Falls. Should we follow him?"
Walt walked around the bed of the truck and joined her side. "I don't think that's a good idea. We're not prepared for hiking like he is. He has the gear and the supplies. We don't. We don't know how long of a hike he's on." He looked beyond the nearby building. "Plus, that's not the only path. And he might not have stayed on the path even if he did head towards the falls. We could end up searching in the wrong direction, and completely miss him."
"So we just wait here? It could be hours."
"He doesn't know we're looking for him, so he's going to return to his truck at some point."
Lifting her hand to shield her eyes, she stepped forward and did a 360 degree scan of the area. "I think we should do our stakeout from the bench over there by the building. We'll have a good view of his truck, but we'll be out of his direct line of site when he returns from whatever path he took. We'll see him before he sees us."
She turned toward him to gauge his reaction.
The corners of his mouth lifted. "Sounds like a good plan."
"You ready? Could be a long stakeout."
Copying his move from that morning, he reached out and hooked his finger into the top of her jeans. "Ready."
She arched an eyebrow. "We're working."
"Technically it's before the time we'd usually start working on a Monday morning."
Her eyebrow rose higher. "Technically we are working. We're staking out a suspect's vehicle."
He tugged her closer. "There's no one around."
"So, when no one's around, even though we're working, you get all handsy, but when we're off hours, and my neighbor decides to bring his trash out to the curb at an ungodly hour, you hold back? Even though he probably couldn't see us in the dark?"
He bowed his head. "Sorry. Instinct. I...I guess I wasn't ready for others to know our business."
"Your truck was parked at the end of my driveway overnight. And you were leaving my house at five in the morning. If any of my neighbors saw that, they probably already have a good idea of the nature of our relationship."
He leaned back against the truck. "You're right."
She stepped in between his legs. "Of course I am."
Leaning in, she pressed her lips to his. This time it was his eyebrow that arched when she pulled back. "We're working."
"Technically, I'm on a break." She stepped back with a grin. "I need to pee." She pivoted and started toward the buildings, calling out to him over her shoulder. "I'm going to go see if the bathrooms are open even though the visitor center is closed."
Walt watched her retreating back until she disappeared behind the second building.
Closing his eyes, images from their time in bed that morning surfaced, and he sifted through the memories until he felt a nudge at his shoulder. He turned to find Bear peering up at him.
With a pat to the dog's head, Walt leaned into the bed of the truck to take a closer look at its contents. His eyes landed on a red baseball cap. He picked it up, and turned it around. It was a Casper College T-Birds hat, as he'd suspected back at The Busy Bee. Walt wondered if Tyler had picked up the cap when he was stalking Kyle Walton on campus to learn more about him and his schedule.
He tucked the hat into his pocket.
As he turned and started heading toward the bench, he heard a whine come from behind him. He looked over his shoulder at the dog, lifting his hand. "Stay. I'll just be over there."
The dog rested his paws on the side of the truck as if he were considering jumping out.
Walt gestured down with his hand. "Sit."
The dog didn't move.
He kept his eyes on the dog as he crossed the lot.
Once seated, he gestured with his hand again. "See, I'm not going anywhere. Sit."
After a moment, the dog did as instructed.
Walt looked down at his watch. Vic was sure taking her time.
He looked around, and when his gaze landed on a map of the area, he stood and walked over.
He scanned the map and then paused. It had been a while since Vic had set out to look for a bathroom. What if she had decided to take the path toward the falls, in search of Tyler?
He looked at the map again and located the bathroom, and then headed in that direction at a fast clip.
He found the women's bathroom unlocked, but empty. Stepping back outside, his eyes darted around the area. "Vic."
No response.
He tried a little louder. "Vic."
Again silence greeted him.
He looked around, and this time his eyes landed on something shiny. Vic's sunglasses, perched on a ledge.
His stomach clenched. She loved those sunglasses, and wouldn't just leave them.
He closed his eyes, trying to remember the layout from the map. The path to the falls was the closest path, but that didn't necessarily mean that's where she was.
He headed back toward Tyler's truck at a sprint. No one was there, but at his approach, Bear stood up in the bed of the truck.
Walt turned around in a circle, looking for movement. Nothing.
And then he went into a run back to Vic's truck. But when he pulled at the driver-side handle he found the door locked. She had the keys. Which meant his Winchester, and the CB radio, were locked inside. He had no way to call for back-up.
He ran again, this time to the start of the trail leading to the falls. "Vic."
Silence.
It's times like these, she'd remind him, that a cell phone would be handy.
He took a few calming breaths, and then scanned the path. And that's when he saw it. A red Skittle. It could just be a coincidence. The candy could have been dropped long ago. But they kept the Big Horn National Forest pretty clean, even in the off season. And Vic happened to have a bag of the candy in her pocket. And he didn't believe in coincidences.
He pulled his gun from its holster, his eyes alternating between looking around and scanning the path.
And then he found the second Skittle. An orange one.
His heart began beating faster, and his thoughts were sifting through all sorts of scenarios.
And then he saw the yellow Skittle. But this one was just off the path. Had she gone off the path? Had she spotted Tyler, and was following him, leaving a candy path for Walt so he could follow her? Or had Tyler spotted her, and was forcing her to go-off path with him?
He gripped his Colt tighter, and then stepped off the path.
The Skittles came more frequently, as if she knew it would be harder to follow her now that there wasn't an established trail guiding the way.
He followed the markers she'd left, trying to keep his gun poised and ready, while also trying to keep his footing. Scanning for Skittles, staying on the alert and not falling down the mountain was a difficult combination, but it forced him to stay focused on the task at hand, and not on the fear building within him.
And then the Skittle path ended, or at least he couldn't locate the next one.
The fear surged. He shook his head. Think.
And then he heard it. The snap of a tree branch. And then another.
He whipped around, his gun aimed and at the ready.
Bear stood staring up at him.
Walt exhaled. "Go back." He gestured in the direction the dog had come from. Bear didn't budge.
And then he remembered that German Shepherds were good trackers. He reached into his pocket, pulled out Tyler's baseball cap, knelt down and held it out to Bear. If Vic was tracking Tyler, or if Tyler had Vic with him, his scent would be on the trail.
Bear approached Walt's hand, and sniffed the hat.
Walt stood. "Find Tyler."
Bear stayed rooted in place. Maybe Tyler hadn't taken this path. Or maybe the dog had never been trained to track.
Walt waved the hat. "Come on Bear, find Tyler."
And then Bear was off, in the opposite direction than he'd come. Walt took chase, with a glimmer of hope the dog had picked up the scent.
And then he came across a yellow Skittle, and then a purple one. They were back on the path.
He followed the dog further into the forest. When the Skittle path abruptly came to an end once again, Bear stopped. Walt followed suit and looked around. Nothing stirred.
He was about to urge Bear to continue, when the dog's ears pulled back. And then he heard it too. The faint sound of someone talking. He couldn't make out if there were two voices or one.
Bear looked ready to pounce, so Walt placed his hand on him, and gently pushed him into a seated position. "Stay," he whispered.
Quietly Walt advanced toward the sound, alert, and looking for any sign of movement. And then the voices stopped and he stopped in his path. He looked back at Bear and again gave him the hand signal to 'stay.'
Then he turned, and continued until he came upon a small clearing. And there sat Vic, her hands tied behind her, sitting on a rock near a steep incline. He tried to will her to look up and see him, but she kept her head bent.
He took a step toward her.
"That's close enough, Sheriff."
Vic's head snapped up, and he caught her eye just as Tyler stepped forward, with a gun pointed in Walt's direction.
"Put the gun down Sheriff."
"I was going to say the same thing to you, Tyler. I've got years of training and experience on you, so I can guarantee my aim and timing are better than yours."
Tyler quietly watched him for a moment. "Well I have something you don't have."
"What's that?"
"Leverage." And with that, he pointed the gun at the back of Vic's head. "And I think my aim is pretty good from back here."
They both stared at each other. "Put the gun down, Sheriff. I know you don't want me to hurt her."
"I don't think you can do it."
"You don't? I just said my aim is pretty good from this distance."
"I mean, I don't think you have it in you to do it. Shoot somebody."
"And why is that?"
"Because you didn't commit any of the robberies yourself. Which meant you didn't have to hurt anyone directly."
"I already told you that I wasn't the one who robbed the stores. I was hiking both days. It had nothing to do with me being capable of violence or not."
"We know you were involved in the robberies, Tyler. And you know that we know. Why else would we be out here, trying to find you, if we didn't have proof?"
Tyler laughed. "You don't have proof. And I have alibis."
"Dylan and Andy told us everything. They said the whole thing was your idea."
Tyler blinked, and then looked off to the side. "Well I guess it's their word against mine."
"We know about the burner phones, Tyler."
Tyler looked back at him, but said nothing.
"The boys said the three of you used them to communicate with each other."
Tyler remained silent.
"They said you instructed them to toss them on Monday. But guess what? Andy kept his. I think he wanted a little insurance. So that you'd have a little skin in the game if things went south, since they were doing all the heavy lifting."
Tyler sucked in his lower lip, and then stepped forward, pushing the barrel of the gun into Vic's neck. "I'm warning you, Sheriff, put down the gun. I will shoot."
Walt saw Vic flinch, and her eyes go large. He thought back to the standoff outside the Gilbert compound, and a similar look on her face as Chance held a gun to her.
"You will not hurt Deputy Moretti."
"I won't. Why is that?"
"She's my partner. I won't let you."
"Because she's your partner? It has nothing to do with your feelings for her?"
Walt eyed the boy.
"You love her, don't you?"
Walt's jaw tensed.
"I saw you back in the parking lot. The two of you standing by my truck, all lovey dovey. Admit it. You love her."
Walt was trying his best to avoid Vic's eyes.
"I saw her kiss you, and how you stared at her ass as she walked away." Tyler turned his head slightly toward Vic, and pressed the gun in further. She flinched again. "If you were wondering if your man here is an 'ass' man or a 'legs' man, I'd put my money on 'ass.' Or maybe it's both. I have no proof that he's not also into legs."
"Yes."
Tyler's eyes flew over to his. "Yes, you're an 'ass' man or yes you're into both?"
Walt stared back at him.
Tyler grinned. "Oh, you mean yes to my original question."
Again Walt's jaw tensed. Again he refrained from looking over at Vic.
Tyler pressed the gun into Vic's neck again. "Say it."
"Yes."
"I mean say that you love her."
"I love her."
"See, that wasn't too hard. People deserve to hear it." He looked between the two. "Was that the first time you said it out loud, in front of her?"
Walt paused. "Did someone not tell you they love you, Tyler?"
The boy's eyes flicked back to him.
"Did you love someone who didn't say they loved you in return?"
Tyler took in a breath. "We're not talking about me. We're talking about you, Sheriff. Did you mean what you said? Do you love your deputy here, or were you just saying it to appease me?"
Walt paused again. "I meant it."
"And did you just come to the realization now, when I asked? Is that why you hadn't admitted it before?"
"No."
"How long have you known, Sheriff? How long have you known how you felt about Deputy Moretti?"
He didn't even need to count back. "Six-and-a-half months."
Walt remembered the fear he'd felt when Sean called and told him what had happened. The blind panic, made worse when he arrived at the scene and realized how close the car accident was to the Gilbert compound.
"Six-and-a-half months? You knew you were in love with her six-and-a-half months ago, and you didn't tell her? Why not?"
And then Walt finally looked at her, briefly, before dropping his gaze. "I couldn't, at the time."
"Why not?"
"Vic knows why not."
"Well, I don't, so tell me."
Walt looked up at Tyler. "Did your father not tell you he loved you, Tyler, before he left? Is that what this is about?"
"I told you we weren't talking about me." There was a slight edge to Tyler's voice.
"Or are we talking about your mother's boyfriend?"
"Shut up."
"Or maybe we're talking about a girl."
"I've got a gun trained on your girlfriend, Sheriff. You need to shut up when I tell you to shut up."
"I'll put my gun down, Tyler. As a sign of good faith."
Walt lowered his gun to the ground. "See, now it's your turn."
"I don't think so. I'd lose my leverage."
Walt took a step forward.
"Stay where you are."
"Who's the girl, Tyler? Who's the girl who didn't love you back?"
"I told you to shut up."
"Is it Jessica Suarez?"
Tyler shuffled his feet, but said nothing.
"I met Jessica yesterday. Did you know that? She was worried about you. She said you are good friends."
The boy's silence continued.
"Do you like her more than a friend, Tyler?"
Still no response.
"Have you told her how you feel?"
Still unable to get a reaction from Tyler, Walt switched tactics.
"I met some other folks, that both you and Jessica know. Cody Pierce. And Bryce Sullivan." He watched Tyler closely. "And Evan Brandt."
He saw Tyler press his lips together.
"I saw a picture of Jessica up on Evan's wall when we stopped by the Brandt store. Turns out the three of you were all at a bike clinic together, back in May. Nick Waters too."
Walt didn't even wait for a response before continuing.
"Dylan told us you were pretty pissed to see Evan and Nick that day. He said that they did something to you in high school. What did they do? Why'd you want to retaliate?"
Tyler's jaw seemed to tense.
"And did something happen recently? Why retaliate four years later?"
"I saw his picture up on her wall."
Walt tried to mask his surprise that Tyler had responded. "Whose picture? On whose wall?"
"Evan's. She had a picture of the two of them up on her wall."
Walt knew which picture he was talking about. He'd seen the picture of Evan and Jessica on Jessica's wall yesterday. He'd even pointed it out to her.
"Jessica said you stopped by her dorm room a couple weeks ago, trying to coax her into joining your group on your trip to Devils Tower this weekend. She said you started acting strange out of the blue."
"I didn't know for sure if they were involved, but when I stopped by her room, she had his picture on her wall."
"And so you decided to get back at him?"
"He doesn't deserve her."
"What did Evan and Nick do to you freshman year at Sheridan High? Dylan told us something happened. Your mother said you came home from school and locked yourself in your room, and then focused on losing weight with a vengeance. What happened?"
Tyler clamped up again.
"Did they pull a prank on you? Mac told us you got really upset with another kid in your Trailhead group for pulling a prank on a new member. Did Evan and Nick pull a prank on you back in high school?"
This time Walt let his question hang in the air.
"They stole my clothes. I was in the shower, and they went into my locker and stole my clothes. And my towel."
"They embarrassed you in front of the rest of the boys in the change room?"
"They humiliated me in front of the whole school! Evan had his phone with him and took a picture of me. And Nick posted it online for the whole school to see."
Walt paused. "I'm sorry Evan. That was a cruel thing for them to do."
"And he didn't even remember me when I saw him at the clinic in May. He ruined my life, and I wasn't even a blip in his."
"Is that when you started to think about how to get back at the two of them? You decided to take some time off school, and focus on coming up with a plan?"
"When I got back from the clinic, it was all I could think about. I couldn't focus on anything else."
"What about your mother's boyfriend? Why include Rich in your plans? What did he do? He seems like a decent guy."
Tyler laughed. "Decent guy? He's a shit. He's been a shit for the nine years I've known him."
Walt waited for him to continue.
"Do you know what it's like having your mother's boyfriend move in, and treat you like shit? No, he didn't hurt me, if that's what you're wondering, but do you know what it's like having someone call you a 'shithead, and a 'lardass,' for nine years? I'm not even fat anymore! I lost the weight four years ago! I'm half the size I was, and in better shape than he is, and he keeps calling me a 'fatso.' To my face."
Tyler was crying now.
Walt glanced over at Vic. "Tyler, put down the gun."
"And then, when I told my mom I needed to take a break from school, do you know how hard he rode my ass? He doesn't even have a college degree. And he's not my father, and here he was, on my case acting like he was."
Tyler was shaking now, and Walt was worried about the gun going off accidentally.
"Tyler, put down the gun. Let's talk about this, but without the gun."
"And she takes his side, my mom. Well maybe she doesn't take his side, but she certainly doesn't take mine. He treats me like shit, and calls me these names in front of her, and she never says anything. I think she's afraid of him leaving, or of being alone. So she says nothing. I was only a kid, and she did nothing."
Tyler's arm was shaking, and so was the gun.
Walt stepped forward.
"I said to stay where you are, Sheriff!" Tyler was shouting now, and he steadied the gun and jammed it back into Vic's neck. The look of fear was wild in her eyes, and Walt tried his best to keep that same look of fear out of his own, lest he scare her more.
"Tyler, please."
Tyler wouldn't look at him.
"Please put down the gun. I'm on your side."
"No you're not. You're a cop, and you just want to take me in."
"I'm on your side. I'm not lying. I haven't lied to you yet. Well other than saying that Rich is a decent guy. I agree with you. He's an asshole. I knew that from the first time we talked to him."
Tyler looked up at him.
"I want to take you in, Tyler, because you need help. You've been through a lot, and you need to talk this through with someone. I want to help you find that someone to talk to. So please put down the gun so I can help you."
"And so I don't shoot your girlfriend."
Walt nodded, as he took another step forward. "And so you don't shoot my girlfriend."
Another step, and he was in front of Tyler. He reached out and lowered Tyler's arm, and then took the gun from his hand.
"It's ok, Tyler. I'm on your side."
XX
Her right leg was shaking. It had been doing that the entire time they'd been seated in front of Tom Haskill's desk. Although she'd provided answers to Tom's questions, they'd been short responses, and Walt had been the one carrying the conversation. And doing his best to not constantly be glancing over at her.
She'd been quiet the entire drive from Shell Creek to Sheridan. With Tyler in the back seat, Walt couldn't probe to see how she was really doing. He was definitely concerned. Being held captive, and at gunpoint, twice, would not be an easy thing for anyone.
Tom Haskill had already been on 14, headed in their direction, when they'd arrived back at Vic's truck and called him. They'd agreed to meet at the Sheridan office, to hand Tyler over, and give Tom a detailed account.
And now, here they were, bringing Tom up to speed.
And her leg was still shaking.
And with Tom there, he couldn't ask her how she was doing. Not the way he wanted to, anyway.
Tom finally pushed back in his chair, crossing his arms as he looked back and forth between them. "I should probably let both of you go. It's been a long week, especially for the two of you, and you deserve some rest."
He stood. "Let me get a few forms for you to sign, and then you can be on your way. If we need any additional information, I'll give you a call."
With a quick glance in Vic's direction, Walt stood. "Ok."
"Great. I'll be right back."
Walt watched Tom make his way to the door before turning back to Vic. He took a seat, and then after a moment, reached out and placed his hand on her knee. "How are you doing?"
Pushing back her chair, she stood and walked over to the window behind Tom's desk. "I'm fine."
He didn't believe her, and with a quick glance at the open door, he stood and joined her side.
"Vic. Come on. That was a scary ordeal."
"I'm fine, Walt."
She didn't look fine. He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. "How are you doing?"
When she cast her gaze down toward the floor, her lower lip trembling, he stepped forward, wrapping his arms around her. She stilled for a moment, her forehead resting against his chest, and then pulled back. "Walt, the door is open. Someone will see."
"It's ok."
"Tom will be back soon with those forms."
"Vic, it's ok." He pulled her toward him again.
She didn't pull back, but she remained rigid, until her shoulders started to shake. After a bit, she stilled, and then her arms slowly slid around him. "I'm getting your shirt all wet with my snot."
He laughed into her neck. "It's ok. It's not one of my favorites."
She lifted her head, her eyes moist as she looked up at him. "I love this shirt."
"Well then stop making a mess of it." The corners of his mouth turned upward.
She blinked. "You're just trying to distract me."
Remembering her words from the night before, he grinned. "Is it working?"
Her smile reached her eyes. "Yes."
She lowered her head into his chest again. "Seriously, Tom's going to be back any moment."
"It's ok. He knows you had a rough time out there."
Her arms tightened around him.
"Besides, I think he knows there's something going on between us."
She pulled back again. "You do?"
"He's a good detective, and nothing much gets by him. Plus, he's known me for years, and I'm pretty sure he senses there's something different about me recently."
Vic's dark eyes stayed on him. "I love you too, Walt."
His breath caught. "You don't need to say it just because I did."
"I'm not saying it just because you did. I'm saying it because it's true. I love you."
And he knew he was smiling because she was smiling back at him. "Well, just remember who said it first."
Her eyebrow arched. "Tyler."
He laughed, and then she laughed, and his heart soared.
And as he pulled her back into an embrace, he caught a glimpse of Tom trying to quietly drop off the papers on the back table before ducking back out of the room.
Yep, Tom definitely knew.
Thanks for sticking with this story. One more chapter to go. :)